The Name: Jemima Faye

Dear Jemima,

Though you are our "grand finale" baby (we think), your name was perhaps the first one settled on by Daddy and me. Way back when we were thinking of what to call our first baby (who was, I felt quite certain, a girl), the name Jemima was our first choice.

Like each of our kids, your first name is special to us because of what it reminds us about God. 

 

In the Bible, the story of Jemima (ESV "Jemimah") begins with the story of Job. Job was a man who believed in God, served God, taught his children about God, treated his family, employees, and the vulnerable in light of God's love, and feared and revered God (Job 1:1, 5, 23:11, etc). And yet, for reasons that he could not fathom, God sent him suffering of the deepest and most painful kinds.

He lost his livelihood, his possessions, his children, and his health. Even his friends thought that such profound and sustained suffering must be a sign that God was judging him. To walk through deep waters amid such accusations and questions was a trial of the soul like few taste. 

But Job had hope like an anchor in his soul.

Though He slay me, yet I will hope in Him (Job 13:15).

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God (Job 19:25-26).

The real question is, was God trust-worthy?

We get an actual answer to that question in James 5:11:

We count those blessed who endured. You have heard of the endurance of Job and have seen the outcome of the Lord's dealings, that the Lord is full of compassion and is merciful.

Indeed, God was and is always worthy of our trust. After Job's anguish, questioning, and outcries, God vindicates his faith and restores his health and prosperity, "and the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before" (Job 42:10). 

Not only that, but, in true resurrection-type joy,

the LORD blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. And he had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 1,000 yoke of oxen, and 1,000 female donkeys. He had also seven sons and three daughters. And he called the name of the first daughter Jemimah, and the name of the second Keziah, and the name of the third Keren-happuch. And in all land there were no women so beautiful as Job's daughters. And their father gave them an inheritance among their brothers. (Job 42:12-15)

To us, the name Jemima is a reminder of "joy that comes in the morning," of the indestructible hope that belongs to those who trust in God, even when nothing makes sense, and of the way Jesus' victory over sin, death, and the curse is so absolute that even our deepest sorrows and losses may be transformed to joy in Him.

Dear Jemima, when we look at you, we see a little picture of Jesus' resurrection joy. And we pray that you will know that joy in the fullest measure, as you come to trust in Jesus yourself!

Your middle name, like each of our kids, has a special connection to our family.

My mom's name is Patty Rae. Daddy's mom's name is Meredith Kay. And your middle name, Faye, is in honor of both these amazing grandmas. 

Faye means "faith," and faith is the greatest legacy that Grammy and Grandma Kay have given to our family. Like Paul wrote to Timothy, "I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well" (2 Timothy 1:5).

To have two grandmothers who faithfully pray for you, model trust in Jesus, and desire to strengthen you in your own faith and life in Christ is a priceless gift that we thank God for.

And, how fitting that you arrived on Mother's Day, when we remember the sacrifice and investment of these women in the lives of their families.

Grammy shows such gentleness and patience to our family, as a wonderful picture of God's lavish grace and love. She is thoughtful about the specific needs and preferences of each one, and she is an unmatched "giver" of time, care, service, and encouragement. 

 

Grandma Kay is a joyful, whole-hearted lover of God. She prays earnestly, seeks God in His word faithfully, and responds to the leading of the Holy Spirit in specific and faith-filled ways, and she is full of joy to be a "trophy of God's grace." 

 

Jemima, we are blessed beyond measure to have these grandmas in our family, and I know you will be the recipient of unmeasured grace because of their investment in your life.

These are the special thoughts behind your name, and we pray that ultimately, your name will be etched in the Lamb's book of life, as a sign of your belonging wholly to Jesus Christ forever! 

Love you, sweet girl,

Momma

Memories of Grandma Vaupel

 

My memories of Grandma Vaupel are like a patchwork quilt. So many different colors and textures fill the shape and substance of her 98 years of life.

Pot holders, Christmas stockings, doilies, and tea towels. To look around my house is to see little evidences of her love woven into countless hand-made gifts. Each of our children has cherished (almost to pieces) the soft, warm blankets that Grandma crocheted. I don’t go a day without using a towel she embroidered. And it’s not just my house. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, neighbors, and friends have been recipients of her gifts. Military laboring overseas have received her hand-knit little Christmas stockings. Countless homes have been brightened by her personal touch of love. 

Gardening, canning, picking raspberries, freezing corn. Such warm childhood memories of Grandma’s industrious efforts to gather, prepare, and provide. I remember her rubber-banded bread bags, shielding her shoes from ankle-deep mud, as she ventured into the woods to hunt for morel mushrooms. When I got a little bigger, I gained my own spot at her basement tables with a knife and huge bowl of corn on the cob to trim and scrape and bag, for winter enjoyment.

Grandma was the epitome of a fit helper for Grandpa on the farm. Up before dawn, helping with chores, fixing a hearty breakfast, cleaning the kitchen to get it ready for a full spread at lunch. Always with a cheerful smile, a worn apron, capable hands. 

Grandma could feed chickens, calves, and all the people who could cram into her cozy kitchen. And who overflowed into the living room. Of all the memories I have of Grandma, the majority involve large quantities of delicious, comforting food. It’s not just that Grandma made the world’s best chocolate chip cookies, butterhorn rolls, and pies. It’s more that every dish and pan, every bowl and pot that stacked in never-ending piles at the end of a meal held the stamp of her love. I think that’s a legacy that she passed on to her daughters, and probably has trickled down to many of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Thanksgiving dinners, Christmas, Easter, and birthday celebrations were made special because love flavored the abundant and delicious spread of food.

That is the thread that runs through most every piece of the lovely patchwork quilt of memories I have of Grandma. She knew and received the love of Jesus for redeemed sinners. And she overflowed with that love. Love for family. Love for neighbors. Love for church. Love for the Lord. 

The last time I got to hold her strong, soft, wrinkled hand and look in her warm eyes, just a couple days before she finished this earthly course, I leaned close, kissed her cheek, and said, “I love you, Grandma, and the Lord loves you.” And she gave her sweet, meaningful wink, as though to say, “I know, I love you, and I’m glad to be going home to Jesus.”  

 

Happy birthday, Mom!

To a Mom who has always poured out for others (and mostly us girls!), may the Living Water fill you up fresh for a new year of life! You are an amazing mom and wife and follower of Jesus.

We love you!

DAD:

Always there.

Laughing. Over your forgotten name stories. April Fool's pranks. Family classics. "Don't worry, we're laughing at you, not with you." Til the milk squirts out our noses.

Supporting. On the best and worst days. With time for a cup of coffee, a card, an ear to hear, a hug. You are an oak against whom we all lean.

Helping. Available 24/7. Ready with a fresh tank of gas, tax advice, relationship wisdom, a paint brush. [Banger and twister not included.]

Present. For the basketball practice, track meet, recitals. For ER visits and new babies. For Sunday morning runs and Monday night Bible study.

[You think he's gone? He's never gone.]

You reflect God, who is always there. Thanks.

MOM:

Always giving.

Time. Making homemade bread. The Christmas chain. Saturday waffles and pizza. Good News Clubs and hospital visits. Always time for grandchildren. Costly time, freely given.

Thought. Personal love, making note of preferences. Skim milk and whole. Our own little section of homemade pizza toppings.

Prayer. When you cannot fix it, you pray. Heaven alone will show the mountains that have been moved.

Love. You have never stopped pouring love into our lives, pressed down, shaken together, running over. We have been deeply shaped by your love.

You reflect God, who is always giving. Thanks.

Visit with Grandma K

Last week we had the very special treat of a visit from Grandma K.

Victor and Josiah were overjoyed at so much fun with Grandma and all the cousins too!

A real African cheetah. Which Josiah loves to snuggle.

All-family birthday party at the trampoline park!

Just prior to a great fall, due to a "really big snuggle"

Thanks for coming to visit us, Grandma K! We are thinking of you, we love you, and we look forward to the next time we'll see you!

Time with Gi-Gi

Last December, Grandma Anderson (a.k.a. Great-grandma or "Gi-Gi") took a turn for the worse, and we really thought her days were about done. So on our way out of town from celebrating Christmas, Ben and Victor and I stopped by for a little last-minute visit. I don't know why I never thought of it earlier, in this world of technological marvels, but I took a little video, just to remember her voice and sense of humor and sweetness.

It was over 6 months later that the Lord appointed her to finish the race, but I'm thankful for a few minutes of her smile to remember...

Good-bye, Grandma

The first time I saw a photo of a young Grandma Anderson I thought, Oh, that's where I come from.  I don't share a strong family resemblance with my sisters, but in the gilt frame on my mom's piano, that young Irene Anderson looked like my kin.


Grandma A (as I knew her for most my life) died on Saturday.

So many memories...

The warm little kitchen in Vinton, IA with spoon rests from everywhere covering the walls.  We girls really wracked our brains to try to count them all, pretty much every visit... 97 or thereabouts is my recollection.

Packs of Bubblicious gum always tucked into the big white drawer (because sugar-free gum is not for grandmas!).  When we were little, a piece of Bubblicious could keep our jaws chawing for a pretty long time.  And then we'd try to have contests to blow the biggest bubbles (a real bummer when it popped in our hair).

Sometimes we'd get to go to Grandma and Grandad's for an overnight.  They'd take us to a bakery in the mall to get some huge, frosting-covered pastry, and then we'd look around at exotic stores like Dollar Tree.

Grandma played the organ at her little Baptist church for 50 years.  She had an organ at home too, and I remember turning on the little light on top, looking through her Christmas hymns album, and marveling that someone could simultaneously play a left hand, a right hand, and foot pedals.

Saturday nights of pizza and pop and Rummikub.  Her crispy sugar cookies.  Orange Jello salad with carrots and pineapple.  Reading her Good Housekeeping magazines.  Wearing the slip-on fake plastic fingernails with bright red polish.

Our "Anderson side" weekends in Rochester were wonder-filled for me as a little girl.  I couldn't sleep the night before, it was so exciting.  We would meet Grandad and Grandma at McDonalds in Waterloo and eat pancakes with warm syrup on a yellow styrofoam plate.  Then we'd caravan with them the rest of the long, long trip to Rochester.  Grandma would have little baggies of animal crackers, which really helped to pass the time.

After f o r e v e r, we'd arrive at the Best Western and meet up with the rest of the family in The Dakota Room.  Normally, we celebrated Grandad and Grandma's anniversary, and they always sat in the middle of the U of tables, sweetly happy with one another and with their family.

Laughing, laughing, laughing.  That was the bulk of those Rochester weekends.  Games of Pictionary, "dictionary" (what is a mome, we can all now tell you), swimming in the indoor pool, fuseball, pizza, lots of pop, and some pretty crazy April Fool's jokes.  Grandma had a sense of humor right up to the last time I saw her, and that was a pretty strong gene that passed down in the family. 

Years took their unavoidable toll, and eventually the Rochester weekends ended.  But Grandma wrote letters--typed on her age-old typewriter, with the typos endearingly included.  We all got them, but she would often write a little note at the bottom just for you.

"I'm so proud of you."  If there was ever a gracious, thankful, and encouraging matriarch of the family, it was Grandma.  She may have begun scrambling a few names and losing track of the babies, but she still had words of affirmation and care to the very end.  It wasn't that we gave her no reason to complain--but I never heard her say a cross or discontent thing about God's care for her or her family's care for her.

I think the words of the hymns she played so long must've lingered in her heart, even when her fingers couldn't maneuver the keys anymore.

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
And to take Him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
And to know, “Thus says the Lord!”
 
O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust His cleansing blood;
And in simple faith to plunge me
’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace.

I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end.

He was with her.  And because she trusted Him, and now Grandma's laugh is freer and brighter than ever before.

We love you and miss you, Grandma.  

Obituary